That Boy
by Floatey948
Summary: A little oneshot between Hermione and Ron, and Hermione's feelings and thoughts.


**For the record, this is my first fic, so don't expect terribly a lot. But hey, I tried. The inspiration for this story comes from real experiences, that were mine, a couple of years ago, when I started this story. Unfortunately, the ending is just one of my fantasies, and hasn't happened yet. But I can still hope, right? Hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Howgwarts, the world of Harry Potter, or any of the characters, the all belong to JK Rowling. If I owned them, I would be very, very rich. I don't even own **_**that boy**_** who this story is written about. I only own my ridiculous daydreams about **_**that boy**_**, and the hope that someday, this story will come true. **

She looked up from her parchment of notes and watched him. That boy, the one who made her crazy, made her stomach flutter, made her the happiest she had ever been. That boy, with the bright red hair, with the heavily freckled face, with the long, slightly clumsy legs. That boy was currently gazing intently at something hidden behind an upraised History of Magic book. She leaned back to get a better view of what her red-haired, freckle-faced, long legged boy was doing, and then rolled her eyes and grinned as she realized he was once again organizing his collection of Famous Witches and Wizards Cards.

She stared at him contently for a few more minutes before realizing that she was getting behind on her notes. She once again started to scratch down Professor Binn's words, but every so often she stopped for a split second to look back at him. At one point, he looked up from his cards and met her eyes. She gave him a quick smile and turned her eyes back to the front of the room. But even as she did this, her stomach dropped, and her thoughts flew to a million places all at once. She spent the remainder of the class daydreaming, note-taking now being the farthest thing from her mind, coming up with different scenarios involving him kissing her.

When the class ended, she put her things in her bag and looked up to find him waiting for her at the door. She smiled; she loved it when he waited for her. They walked together to their next class, potions. He complained about how unneeded History of Magic was, while she tried to explain its significance. The conversation ended with him walking into the potions dungeon. It made her giddy knowing how comfortable they were together, how they could talk and laugh together. It made her want to be with him all the time. Then that boy turned around and gave her a cocky smile, the smile that made her knees go watery. That boy sat down in his seat, which was conveniently right next to hers, and started talking to Harry Potter. She sat down next to him, which was a relief, because she wasn't sure if her legs could support her weight for much longer. She started taking out her potions supplies, all the while sneaking glances at him every few seconds.

They stood, she believed she had control over her legs again, and started the assigned potion. He and Harry were working together; she was partnered with Pavarti Patil. He was doing surprisingly well that day. She, surprisingly, wasn't. Although truthfully, it wasn't all that surprising. She was thinking about him, and his smile, and his freckles. All that thinking made it hard to concentrate on the potion in front of her. He made fun of her jokingly when she dropped ingredients, laughed when she fumed that _his_ potion was turning the correct shade of green faster. She glared at him and told him to shut his mouth, but inside, she was glowing. That boy was making fun of her; didn't that mean he liked her?

He flicked the water they were supposed to be using for diluting their potions at her. She glared at him in mock-annoyance, then flicked water back with a mischievous grin. They continued their water battle, periodically checking to make sure the professor wasn't watching. She finally made them stop; she had to finish her potion, even if he was already done.

At the end of the class, that boy walked out of the room with Harry, not a word or a glance in her direction. She frowned with disappointment, her heart sinking. She trudged out of the classroom, thinking hard. That _boy_ frustrated her so much! Half the time she could almost swear by her life that he liked her, that he was flirting with her even! The other half it was if there was nothing there, they were friends and no more. What other signs could she give? She flirted with him, as much as a bookworm like herself could, she laughed at his lame jokes, she spent as much time with him as she possibly could. She sighed and walked to Arithmancy, hoping that, eventually, that boy would notice what was right in front of his face.

She did not see that boy for the rest of the day. They did not have another class together, she stayed in the library during lunch, and quidditch practice went through dinner. The next day was a repeat of the first. She couldn't stop thinking of him, she dropped ingredients, she stirred slower, and he finished before her. But this time, he waited for her after potions. This time, he did more than wait for her. He pulled her aside, and asked if he could speak with her about something. She agreed, and looked up at him, waiting. She hadn't truly realized how tall he was. That boy asked her if she wanted to go to Hogsmeade with him that weekend, just the two of them. Her stomach dropped and her head spun as she processed his question. With much more calm than she felt, she responded that she would like that very much. Then, that boy, who made her crazy, made her stomach flutter, made her the happiest she had ever been, that boy, with the bright red hair, with the heavily freckled face, with the long, slightly clumsy legs, kissed her.

That boy is Ronald Weasley, and now, he is _her_ boy.

**Review, please!! And try to be nice, but if you feel you must flame, go ahead, I can handle it, really.**


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